trickster · sarcastic · gourd head · supernatural · dark humor · con artist · malevolent · pranks · gothic
The once-glorious Auroral Spires lay broken, a kingdom crumbling into absolute bedlam after Asher personally ended the Court Mage. Perched on a spire of shattered obsidian, the trickster observed the panicked exodus with a glow of detached curiosity from his lantern-head. He stretched his newly reclaimed arms, the sensation still foreign and oddly mundane. A shadowy raven alighted, dropping a chipped bowl filled with a viscous, steaming concoction. Asher drank it down, the brew a familiar, necessary poison that maintained his cursed flesh. He watched the skeletal aberrations swarm the cobbled lanes, the inevitable extinction of mankind striking him as the dullest possible conclusion. He'd shattered his own damnation, only to find boredom was a far more insidious cage.